Chosen Read Free

about Jon.”
    Brok nodded his head as the man's words confirmed his suspicions. He had been waiting some time for the parents of this particular pupil to approach him.
    Willam took a deep breath and rubbed his hands together with nervous frustration.
    “I don't know what to do about the boy. His mother and I are beside ourselves. He keeps going on and on about wanting to be a traveling storyteller. A storyteller!” The man stood and began pacing, gesturing angrily with his hands.
    “That is no profession for a boy of Jon's talent. He could have a good life as a Mystic, serving people, helping people. As a storyteller, he would live in shoddy rooms, stables, and tell stories for a few measly coins and a meal.”
    Willam turned to Brok, a look of pleading on his face.
    “What can we do? How can we keep him on the right path?”
    Brok took a moment to collect his thoughts before answering. He had to use great care here. It was tempting to tell this man, this father, the truth about his son's destiny. Jon Stone, with his other four classmates, Gwen Heath, Keera Flint, and the Barlow twins Saemus and Kaelin, was one of the Chosen. Although still unaware of their fate, these children carried the heavy burden of saving the galaxy from the formidable Mekans.
    The five students believed they were under the tutelage of Master Brok merely to become Mystics, who were spiritual leaders for many Astran towns and villages. They were eagerly sought after and highly regarded. Being experts in herb lore and magic, a Mystic held a distinct and honorable position. Despite Master Stone's ambition for his son to become a Mystic or Jon's desire to be a storyteller, Jon was destined for more important things.
    “I would not be concerned about your son's future, Master Stone. He is young yet, and still has a young man's dreams. Before his training concludes, he will realize his gifts are needed in ways other than for the amusement of telling stories. Listen, enjoy his stories, and be assured that your son is destined for great deeds.”
    Willam took a moment to allow Master Brok's words to sink in. “Thank you for putting a father's fears to rest. I only want what is best for him.”
    After saying their good-byes, Willam rode away towards his home. Brok re-filled his pipe and sat down to enjoy a last peaceful smoke before heading to bed. As he blew rings toward the Astran twin moons, he thought of the students' performance during their earlier lessons. He shook his head ruefully. Who could blame their distraction, knowing that on the morrow, Midsummer Festival began? Brok was also looking forward to the festivities.
    Town folk from two neighboring villages, Willow Haven and Oak Brook, would travel to Heart Stone and join in the fun, erecting tents in any available open spaces. Women would meet at the Town Center, a grassy area filled with flowers and surrounded by willow trees. Large ovens were wheeled from the smithy for baking a variety of goods. The air would fill with the most tantalizing aromas: sweet cakes, pies, pastries, cookies, meat pies and rolls, jams and jellies, and various kinds of bread. Contests were held for women and young girls to display their sewing, exhibiting many impressive quilts, dresses, and bonnets.
    The men would gather and practice archery, knife throwing, fencing, sword and quarterstaff fighting, carving, sheering, and bird calling, wanting to hone their skills for the various competitions that would occur during the course of the entire week. Those men who brought ales and ciders for the judges' consideration and for localsampling set up their barrels inside the inn. Eventually the brewers' generosity led to disdainful sniffs from the women who later found their men rather drunk.
    The children could be found everywhere, playing Catch Me if you Can, playing at sword fighting with large sticks, fishing, sneaking treats from the tables laden with baked goods, and racing their horses and ponies. It was virtually